A/N: HP & the HP universe are the property of JK Rowling and her assigns. I make no money from the writing and posting of this fiction based on her work.

Beta: Glittergrrrl05 – I mean, really, I'm so lucky to have had two awesome betas for this. You should check out Bespoke Witch, a wonderfully imaginative AU fiction. If you want to go read that now, I totally understand and will wait right here for you to get back.

Also, I used "Death Eater wards" in this chapter, and idea I appropriated (with permission) from the crazy-talented ShayaLonnie. (Go read her stuff too. Sooner rather than later.)

Ch. 19

Wednesday Afternoon

Kingsley Shacklebolt's Office

Kingsley steepled his fingers and considered the four couples over his arranged before his desk.

"As Minister for Magic, Mr. and Mrs. Zabini, I apologize for the unfortunate disturbance at your wedding reception. In your capacity as spokespersons for our Marriage Law, we, in the final analysis, were responsible for the security arrangements at your wedding."

Silence stretched somewhat uncomfortably as Parvati stared stiffly at the Minister, reminding him that no bride appreciated unwelcome guests at her wedding, much less murderers. Blaise maintained his flat mask, giving away nothing.

"I have authorized an all expenses paid week-long honeymoon for next week at the Wizarding Resort of your choosing as a more tangible expression of our sympathy and remorse. We would just need to know your choice as quickly as possible."

Parvati brightened considerably, and Blaise looked amused. "Of course, Minister, we would be delighted to accept your wedding gift." He squeezed Parvati's hand. "I'll let my lovely bride choose our destination. I'm sure she can get you an answer sometime today."

"Excellent. Now, on to the incident itself. As Mr. Potter has no doubt told you all, we have no way of determining who was the target of the Avada at the wedding reception. Ms. Umbridge made," he paused to carefully consider his next words, "quite a few enemies over the years."

Harry snorted at his boss's understatement but changed the sound to a strangled sort of cough at Kingsley's forbidding look. "Excuse me, Minister, just had a tickle in my throat."

Kingsley continued on. "However, it is also possible that you were the target, Hermione. But what would be the motive?"

Draco spoke up. "It was Hermione. My father has put a contract on her life."

"The hell you say!" Ron burst out.

Harry merely narrowed his eyes, but they were shooting sparks of emerald fire, and he fingered his wand in his wand pocket on his trouser leg.

"And you know this how, Draco?" Kingsley inquired.

"I can't prove it. But I've gotten these letters from him." Draco pulled out the missives from his father and slid them over to Kingsley. "My mother is increasingly worried about his mental state, and so I decided to visit him yesterday."

Draco waited as Kingsley looked over the letters rapidly. "I find that I agree with her, Minister. I think he's losing his hold on rational thought."

Kingsley's nodded, acknowledging Draco's concerns and his expression darkened as he continued to read the communications from Lucius. He looked up as he finished.

"And?" Kingsley encouraged Draco to continue.

"He said nothing that would prove he had anything to do with this. But, I'm his son; I know him better than anyone other than my mother. It wasn't anything he said so much as his attitude. He's planning something."

"Minister, if I may?" Hermione spoke from beside her husband. "I believe Draco's right."

Kingsley sent Hermione an expectant look.

"I know Mr. Malfoy doesn't like me, but that's not why I say this. Who knew that Umbridge was going to be at Parvati and Blaise's wedding?"

The Minister considered his answer. "Umph. True, Hermione. Her appearance surprised many of us. But that doesn't discount someone trying to kill her in the heat of the moment."

Harry made an abortive move to rub the back of his hand but caught himself, instead reaching up and adjusting his glasses.

"I'm afraid she really did have quite a few enemies, and she may have numbered at least three of you among them," Kingsley continued.

"Quite, but the Avada came from the back of the room, Minister. We were all at the front," Harry spoke up.

"So, who do you believe was the target, Harry?"

"Hermione. Lucius hates her, hates her blood, and I believe he would do anything to prevent his line from being 'polluted' or some such bollocks by a Muggle born."

"Ron?" Kingsley turned his attention to the red-headed wizard at Harry's side.

"Sir, I saw the man who sent the curse, and he looked vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't pinpoint where I had seen him before. As we have now determined, he was a polyjuiced version of Trampes Vanderhorst, who worked here in the Ministry in the Department of Apparition and Transportation. He was found dead in his home on Monday by his mother. The Healers who examined his remains determined that he had been dead since Friday, before the wedding. I'm inclined to agree that this was a premeditated attempt on Hermione's life, unfortunately."

Ron's professional answer impressed Draco, who had never seen this side of the Gryffindor. "Well done, Weasley," he murmured respectfully.

Startled, Ron nodded quickly, thanking Draco for his acknowledgment of his work, the pink on the tips of his ears giving away his pleasure at being the unexpected compliment.

Hermione smiled briefly. Ron was not the dolt so many thought him, and she realized that Draco had affirmed that publicly, something very few had done outside his closest friends and family. I'm glad Draco said something; Ron deserves some praise for keeping his head at the reception and for putting the aftermath together so quickly.

Kingsley nodded in acceptance. "Very well. I'm inclined to let perceptions remain as they are – vague." He turned to Draco. "But we seem to be in agreement that somehow Lucius Malfoy is directing this from Azkaban." At Draco's nod, Kingsley continued. "Do you have any idea whom he may be contacting?"

Draco considered the question. "Sir, if you could get me a list of known Death Eaters still at large, I may be able to narrow down the suspects. But, I think you need to restrict Lucius's communications."

Kingsley considered Draco's suggestion. "I'll have a list to you before you leave for Hogwarts today. But, I'm inclined to let him continue with his communications. All the better for trapping him."

"But Minister, this – "

"Sir, no, he can't – "

Kingsley's extended hand cut short both Harry and Draco's protests. "Gentlemen, I understand your concerns, but I trust that you both will be willing to protect Ms. Granger. Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy. And I'm also sure that the security measures at your home, Mr. Weasley, will be re-doubled for your wedding, yes?"

Ron nodded vigorously.

"And your wedding, Mr. Potter? At Hogwarts? I trust that you will be able to ensure proper precautions?" Harry confirmed Kingsley's supposition with a nod. "Excellent, then we will ensure that the next attempt occurs on our terms rather than his. Mr. Malfoy, you will apprise the Auror corps of your anticipated movements outside Hogwarts, and we can make certain that both you and your bride are protected."

Hermione bit her tongue to prevent an outburst. I will not be confined to Hogwarts for the remainder of this year! And have armed guards surrounding me? I'm not the bloody Queen.

As they all stood to leave, Kingsley drew Draco aside. "Mr. Malfoy, rest assured that the resources of the Ministry will be on your side should your father attempt to disinherit you." He stopped. "I must warn you. Should we find that he is indeed behind this attempt on your wife's life, he likely will not be allowed out of Azkaban, ever. Are you willing to accept this?"

"Willing? Am I willing to keep my father behind bars for the rest of his natural life?" Draco was incredulous. "He's trying to kill my wife. Of course I'm willing to keep him behind bars."

True to his word, Draco looked over the list of Death Eaters he received before he made his way back to Hogwarts. One name stood out: Antonin Dolohov.

3rd Saturday in November

Hogwarts

"Let's go house-hunting," Draco proposed unexpectedly.

"Wait. What?" Hermione shook her head. "No, I have to revise. We have the 24 inch essay due for Bill next week and a major potions assignment on Tuesday. Can't this wait for next weekend? And, aren't we supposed to let Kingsley know when we're leaving?"

"Hermione…." Draco dragged out her name. "We have the Weas – Weasley and Davis's wedding next weekend, remember? And we need to go somewhere. If we just decided to go today, then there's no way for Lucius to have sent a minion to do us harm." His silver eyes sparked. "And I'd like to break in a new house."

An hour later

The Rectory

Prawle Pointe, Devon

Hermione shook off the slightly ill feeling she always got from Side-along apparition. She turned around as gasped. The house was stone and had the look of an old church. She tilted her head to the side and saw the waves crashing onto the beach, the sound of the surf instantly relaxing her tense shoulders.

Draco watched as his wife drew in a deep breath of fresh, clean, salty air. As she exhaled he could almost see the tension flowing out of her body. "Would you like to see the house or walk on the beach? It's a private one."

Hermione looked longingly at the ebb and flow of the tide, absorbing the briny air.

Draco took matters into his own hands. "Come on, then." They walked over to a crosswalk over the dunes; he reached out and offered his hand and once she placed hers in his, they made their way onto the beach, strolling a ways down the shore, the brisk wind whipping their hair in the breeze.

Hermione stopped and turned to face the expanse of ocean. "It's so peaceful here. Where exactly are we again?"

"Prawle Pointe, in Devon." Draco turned her around and gestured back towards the house. "It's the smallest Malfoy residence. We call it the Rectory because the first Abraxas bought it from the Church when they were selling off property during the Protestant Reformation."

Hermione looked to Draco in surprise. "What do you know about the Reformation?"

"More than you think, smart ass. Some Muggle history is interesting." Draco's eyes lit with a teasing glance. "And you're going to pay for that tone." He reached out to grab her, but she had already turned with a small shriek and fled back in the direction of the house, laughing.

Draco easily caught her before she made it to the boardwalk and spun her around in his arms. He cupped the side of her face. "I've got you now." And then he drew her towards him for a kiss.

Whiskey brown eyes met silver as they drew apart a moment later. "Show me the house, Draco." Hermione's voice was huskier than usual.

"Whatever you want, beautiful."

The house was indeed small by Malfoy standards with only six bedrooms and three baths. But it had a small library and guest cottage by the pool.

"What do you think?" Draco asked as Hermione looked around the library.

"I think I love it." Hermione could just see herself curled up in the comfortable chair in front of the picture window, looking out at the sea while she caught up on her reading.

"Well, you don't have to make a decision today. We've got two more properties to view over the holidays." Draco pulled her from the room. "But I want to see you in another room. And go ahead and ditch the coat. You won't need it."

1st Saturday in December

Outside the Burrow wards

Since Draco had never been to the Burrow, Hermione apparated them to just outside the wards.

"I wonder where they put up anti-Death Eater wards for the wedding," Hermione mused as they drew closer to a low cross-rail fence.

"We'll find out soon enough." Draco had not said anything, but he was anxious to test the wards around the Burrow. If I can get in, then it's over. Well and truly over. He stopped. "Do you know exactly where the line is?"

Hermione looked around. "No, not exactly. But we're near it. Why?"

"Let's just walk, and if they stop me, they'll stop me." Draco rubbed his hands nervously.

"Honestly, I don't think you have any cause for concern." Hermione rose on her toes and gave him a soft kiss.

"Okay. Let's go." Draco nodded and they moved forward. Within five steps, Hermione felt the wards stretch and rebound as they let her through. At her side, but not holding her hand, Draco moved through just as easily.

"Ha…" Draco huffed out a sigh of relief. "It worked, Hermione. It worked." A true smile split his face. "It worked!" He picked her up in all her wedding guest finery and spun her around. "Can you believe it? It worked!"

"Oi! You made it!" Ron's voice intruded on their impromptu celebration. "I was just coming to check on you two. Wait, Malfoy – you got through. How did you do that?"

"The Wards didn't stop me," Draco replied.

"Well no shit. But why? You're a Death –" Ron caught himself. "Uh, you have the mark of a Death Eater and these wards are supposed to be impenetrable. Bill set them, and he's one of the best around."

"It's obvious, Ronald, isn't it?" Hermione used that swotty tone that Ron hadn't heard in months.

"Errr…."

"He's not a Death Eater. He doesn't have the Mark."

"But…."

"No, Ronald, he doesn't have the Mark." Hermione practically dared him to argue with her.

"Right then." Ron decided to stop while he was behind. "You are looking lovely, Hermione. Can I say that shade of red looks wonderful on you?"

Hermione smirked as she glanced down at her burgundy knee length dress accented with a black belt at the waist. "Why thank you, Ronald. I thought I would wear Gryffindor red to celebrate our House. And you look handsome as well." She held out her arms, and they shared a delayed hug. "I'm so excited for you. Are you ready?" He nodded his head and grinned at her when he let her go.

"Sorry about the confusion, Malfoy." Ron held out his hand, and they shook hands in greeting. "Come on up to the House. The ceremony will start in about an hour, and Mum has been asking about you for the last two, Hermione."

An hour later, Draco and Hermione were settled into seats at the pond near the Weasley home. The lights that lit the tent gave it an unearthly glow. Draco took the provided blanket and tucked it around Hermione's legs, casting a Warming charm over them both. The ceremony congregation was very small, only Ron and Tracey's immediate family and closest friends in attendance. The reception, however, would be attended by almost two hundred extended family members and friends. They were already enjoying the hors d'oeuvres and beverages as they waited on the wedding party to arrive.

The lily pads on the pond were lit with fairy lights and Kingsley stood at the end of a small pier under a small pavilion. Ron looked nervous but excited as he stood by Harry, waiting for Tracey to arrive. A broad smile split his engaging face when he caught sight of her. Hermione gasped as she stood with the rest of the assembled guests.

Tracey was a vision in a white cloak trimmed in fur. Visible beneath the cloak was a beautiful lace dress with a small tan belt. Her smile matched Ron's for pure joy. When she reached his side, by the glow of the lights in the pond, he reached up and gently lowered her hood, revealing her to everyone. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers and carefully traced the outline of her lips with his thumb before reaching down to grasp her hand.

The now familiar ceremony passed quickly. When the smoky white tendrils surrounded Ron and Tracey and bound them together, Hermione reached out and took Draco's hand. He gave her a small smile and, in a gesture no less sensual for its increasing familiarity, brushed a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

Hermione gasped when she felt the brush of his tongue on the delicate skin, the caress sending tendrils of heat to pool low in her belly.

"Draco, you can't do that in public."

He leaned over and whispered, "Why not? It's just a kiss, love." Then, he nipped her ear. "I'd like to do much more."

She sent him a quelling look. "You're naughty."

His wicked smile was perfectly suited to his response. "Of course I am. And you love me anyway."

But she wasn't listening because she was watching Ron and Tracey walk back down the aisle; Ron looked happier than she had ever seen him.

The reception tent was like the Burrow: warm, loud, cozy, full of food and laughter. When the bride and groom arrived only a few moments after the guests who had attended the ceremony, a cheer went up.

Draco led Hermione to the dance floor for a slow dance and continued a steady stream of murmurs in her ear. She resisted his charms, but followed his lead as they moved slowly to the edge of the dance floor, near the edge of the tent. When he thought no one would notice, Draco slipped them through the narrow opening, the soft swoosh of the tent flap the only witness to their departure.

He pulled her deeper into the shadows of the nearby copse of trees. Draco backed her against the largest one. "Have I told you how beautiful you are in that dress?" He kissed her lips gently. "But I would prefer it in green."

Hermione's lips curved against his.

"What? Why are you smiling?" Draco demanded.

"Oh. Nothing." Hermione punctuated her words with short kisses. "I just thought - you should know - I am wearing green."

His silver eyes darkened in the moonlight. "Are you now?" Draco captured her lips and thrust his tongue in her mouth. "I think I should check to make sure you're telling me the truth."

His hand swept down her leg and dragged it up to encircle his hip, pressing her against him. Hermione moaned as he slid his hand up to cup her bottom, pulling her even closer. He groaned against her lips as he felt her heat through his trousers. "Hermione," he whispered in her ear, "I'm going to -. " A twig snapped nearby, startling them.

Draco released his hand on her leg, and, with his forehead pressed against hers, growled in frustration as Harry's voice intruded on their interlude.

"I see you found my favorite tree, Malfoy."

"Potter, I hate you right now." Draco took a deep breath to cool his body and willed his hard-on to calm. Think of McGonagall naked. Think of Slughorn and McGonagall naked. Together. Yep. That worked.

Hermione giggled against his throat and brought her leg to the ground, her full skirt falling into place. Draco moved back so that she could stand in front of him until he was fully ready to be seen by others.

"Daphne, the wedding went perfectly, don't you think?"

The beautiful blonde smiled. "Oh, it was lovely, wasn't it? I thought Tracey looked like a winter angel."

The four of them moved back to the reception tent, chatting companionably.

And for that night, all was well.

A/N: I wish to thank all my readers and especially reviewers. I didn't appreciate just how important reviewers are to a writer until I began writing Unity. Since then, I've learned that lesson. I'm privileged to be friends with several authors a great deal more talented than me, and I know they appreciate their reviews more than you know. You may think the big writers don't notice individual reviews. They do. They really do. We (I'm not a big writer, to be clear) spend hours writing these stories and the only payment we get comes in the form of positive feedback from our readers. So, if you hate it, please don't tell us. But if you like it, please do. There's nothing much more discouraging than to get very little feedback at all.

I've gotten a couple of questions about length of this fic – we are nearing the end. Two more chapters and an epilogue.